


the rougher it is

by ouroboric



Series: as the sea churns [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band), minor A.C.E.
Genre: ???? - Freeform, ATEEZ (Band) Are Pirates, Angst, Anxious feelings, Attempted Murder, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Drowning, Fluffy, Gay Pirates, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, LOTS of violence, Low Self Esteem, M/M, Magic, Mermaids, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Multi, Murder, Other, Princes & Princesses, Prison, Sirens, Suicidal Thoughts, Uuummm, Violence, angstss, ansgt, anxiety attack, bADHISTORYIMSOSORRY, cliffhanger im so sorry, im not a historian if you are pls look away., mythological creatures, not very romantic, pirates are inherently gay, pls heed the tags, try and count the amount of ateez song name references bet you wont
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:55:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22548142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ouroboric/pseuds/ouroboric
Summary: He spasmed in the water; legs kicking and arms following suit. He couldn’t breath, he couldn’t breath,  he couldn’t breath. San struggled to the top of the madness, pressing his head sideways to the ceiling. Water flooded into his mouth and he desperately tried to sputter it out. She giggled again and San felt hands wrap around his waist. They were gentle but firm; letting San fight back enough to satisfy part of him but continued pulling him under. San tried everything to get the hands off of him; it felt like there were thousands, crawling around on his body. Her nails sunk into his body. He wailed in the water, swallowing the darkness. She giggled again, this time right in San’s ear.
Relationships: Choi San/Jeong Yunho, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa, all relationships are minor - Relationship, as in subplot
Series: as the sea churns [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622317
Comments: 16
Kudos: 76





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS  
> This is about pirates and seamaidens that weren't that lovely. Please know that I'm an idiot and know next to nothing right about history, but I wrote this for fun. Beware of Choi San. 
> 
> P.s. I'll probably continue to edit this, if you see any mistakes, let me know! And if you think anything needs a definition (see the word "wag" used by San, let me know and I'll add a small dictionary to these notes!)
> 
> (also happy birthday, lind<3 thank you for letting me torture you with unedited screenshots of this only weeks into our friendship. i love you and appreciate having you as a friend.)

A glimmering sea lay before him, filled to the wake with bloodthirsty monsters he couldn’t help but detest. The sea was a mighty one, but the creatures beneath it were mightier. 

Growing up, San was always told stories about the mermaids, the sirens, and the differences in the two species. He knew sirens had glamors; they concealed their ugly with glistening shells and powdered faces made-up with highlights from narwhal horns, liner from squid ink, and with magic. Mermaids shared this vain type of magic, but chose a different look. The few humans who had seen the rarer species had said they were beautiful without any glamour but were told of being bloodthirsty; mouth of sharp teeth, sharp nails, and brittle scales on their body. Mermaids didn’t conceal their ugly; they wore it proudly, is what they said. The mermaids didn’t glow the same as sirens did, but they looked similar enough that every seamaiden a sailor came across was called a siren. San had been warned about the mermaids more than the sirens, though he had all but forgotten the horrific stories until he came to live on the Horizon.

His father worked as a master shiphand on a large, royal shipping vessel. San worked under him, shadowing for when death would finally take the man away from him. San’s father would report the ship’s cargo status and was trusted by the castle to be true to the crown. While San lived with his father, San’s mother was far away; she stayed at home and cleaned for a richer family. Only sometimes was she able to see her family off on their next voyage. More than likely, she was with the company of the other family’s patriarch, not wholly of her own volition. 

San’s father didn’t mind; he cared more for the waters of the sea than any blood of his own, even San’s. But San, being a young child, saw him as a person with a heart of gold; someone who was, from birth, good. As good as a person can get. Until their ship was attacked.

San didn’t know what was happening at first. He was below deck, helping to clean out the pots with the chef as the other boys did the same, but the memory of how scared his courageous father’s voice sounded as he screamed out in fear would stick in his mind forever. 

Pirates had boarded their merry vessel, the Wavemaker, and had sought to claim her cargo. Their boat had rammed into the starboard side, causing the Wavemaker to sink with frighteningly fast speed. His father had immediately tucked-tail, making a plea with the heartless pirates in order to save his own life. He had held San out as a bargaining chip, still a small boy of about 8 years, and threw him on their ship’s deck as the pirates cackled their agreements. The phantom pains of when his head cracked onto the wooden deck and the memory of colors of the painful aurora behind his eyelids would never leave him.

San had been made to watch as the Wavemaker sunk, drowning the boys he had made friends with. The sirens feasted, their jaws snapping in the night. As the bloodied sea swallowed the body parts and wood, his father and a group of traitorous men sailed a small tender boat away from the wreckage. The pirate who had been holding San’s face making him watch ended up creating bruises on his chubby cheeks, colorful auroras to pair with the tears on his face. All San thought of was how good it would be to match his father's face to his.

San had tried to be as quiet as he could, doing his chores even as the crew kicked him around, painting his body in vibrant colors. At night, he spoke to the sea, letting the salty breeze take away his worries and lonesome. The dark water would splash at him, and he came to dream of it as a light pat, a way of the ocean to say “you’ve done well.” He would watch as the creatures swirled underneath the ship, a constant reminder of yet another danger San had to face. Sirens would surface and try to sing to him, but he was too young and could not yet be entranced by their beauty. He would watch as what he believed to be mermaids would clamor over them, hissing and baring their slobbery teeth. It had scared him at first; he had ran back into the servants quarters and hid under his blanket on the floor, quivering. As he grew older, he was no longer afraid, just disgusted by their presence. They were vile creatures, and no matter how beautiful they magicked themselves to be, monsters were all they could ever live as.

San grew into himself, though phantom pains plagued him, he continued with the pirates, still hoping that one day they would relinquish him. Maybe he could see his mother. He soon lost that childish hope. His heart grew dead and rotted away, into the sea.

Eventually, he made friends with one of the other boys. He was different than San; his father was one of the crewmates, his mother long dead, and the biggest difference was that the boy was happy. San came to know him as Yunho. 

Yunho wrestled with San, teaching him hand-to-hand combat, and let him use the dagger his father had given him. Yunho grew tall and broad, and San, shorter and lithe. San knew how to outsmart Yunho with his speed, but Yunho’s wingspan almost always caught him. 

Yunho helped San warm up to some of the other boys, and San felt the inkling of a camaraderie growing between them all as they trained together. 

Mingi grew as tall as Yunho, but his abilities lay in the gun rather than the blade. He was often seen wearing a glove on his shooting hand as to protect it from the residual gunpowder. 

Jongho was all strength; get him angry and he could muster enough strength to be able to lift Yunho and throw him almost off the side of the boat.

The four boys stuck together. As they grew, so did the original crew, and death began making her rounds. It began with the quartermaster, taking him swiftly in the night with a sickness that had the boat docked for a week as everything was burned and new things were brought in. Then, the foolish medic who had been trying to heal the quartermaster. The master gunner died next, right before the captain was found with a gun in his mouth, his blood pooling at his side. 

Everything on the ship stood still that morning, the sun just peeking over the horizon, before the First Mate whipped everyone into gear. San had been trusted, along with Yunho, to throw the master gunner’s body into the water. They tied ropes around his body, sliding what little belongings he had underneath them. 

As San looked over the side, the boat rocking gently from the waves, he saw the shiny glare of the maidens below. San shook as he heaved the gilded body over the side, frozen and watching as the monsters snapped up the limbs, staining the water a color so red that San could never forget it. It reminded him of the water that night, the night his father sailed away from him, when he was given to savages. Savages that had treated him better than his own father had.

Yunho had taken him away, pulling on his shoulder and breaking him of his trance. As the four boys laid in their beds that night, San made a promise to himself: any seamaiden to cross his path, will die.

The day he met her, they were attacked. A new captain had been instituted a day after the funeral for the dead captain; a boy of around San’s age, named Hongjoong. Hongjoong hadn’t been on the boat long, but his lineage held water. His grandfather had been First Mate before Hongjoong’s dad took over after his death. Hongjoong’s dad had left after the captain died, however, saying that he couldn’t go on without him. Hongjoong had volunteered to be captain in his wake and the vote was unanimous. They had had a tournament at the town of Midesie to prove his worth the day before the attack and Hongjoong had come out victorious. 

San was out on the deck, feeling the night air, as the lookout called to the helmsman. A ship was sailing right towards them, flags high. The breeze seemed to sense the tenseness as it whipped their own flags, making large sounds in the night that awoke the crew, if the others awake didn’t them first. 

San ran first to Yunho; he was always hardest to wake up, working his body so hard in the day that it turned into a stone in the night. As soon as Yunho saw the alarm on San’s face he began to wake others until his father called him upon the deck. San made sure everyone was aware before emerging on deck himself. 

The sea stirred, winds splashing more saltiness onto the men gathered on the ship. The creatures beneath it also moved, glowing eyes searching. All the men had put wax in their ears, a valid precaution before exiting the confines of the rooms they slept in. A couple of sirens called out, but their singing voices were too high and couldn’t be heard. 

The men were busy, securing ropes, handing out weapons, and getting the canons ready to fight. Hongjoong stood at the foremast, watching the other boat come into view. San and Jongho were sent to get the tender boat ready; Hongjoong didn’t want to shoot without talking first, but he would make sure his ship was safe while doing so. 

As San and Jongho untied most of the ropes securing the small boat, a monster surfaced near them. She smiled at them before diving back under water. San felt disgusted; but he gleefully thought to himself that if she got any closer, he would love to saw off her head from her body with his dagger. 

The other ship grew nearer, and San was finally able to see what it was; it was a Royal Guard vessel. San’s stomach churned when he realized fate was giving him a present, a twisted gift from the cruel goddess herself. He knew it was a perfect set up for revenge against the crown, and in turn, the coward who had thrown him away. But, deep down, San knew it wouldn’t be tonight. The air wasn’t right, the atmosphere was too neat. He still wanted to fight though; San could feel his anticipation increasing, his movements growing faster. He could only hope that Hongjoong’s attempt at peace would only stay that, an attempt.

At Hongjoongs command, San and Jongho dropped the tender into the water, keeping it close until the other passengers got on. The siren from before surfaced again, watching from a distance; her hair was iridescent, reflecting the moonlight, and her mouth was wide open in a smile. San imagined stringing her dirty teeth on a piece of wire and wearing it proudly. 

San and Jongho watched as their captain sailed out; by now, both ships had stopped and anchored, only throwing down enough weight to have them rumble back and forth in the sea, but light enough to be let up easy and leave time for getting to proper stations. 

San watched as his new captain climbed aboard the Clouded Illusion, all muscles tensed as splashing sounded off near him. 

Jongho lightly laid his hand on San’s shoulder, so gentle for such a beast of a man. San laid his hand over his and knocked it off, returning to the deck above them. 

Yunho and Mingi were standing near where Hongjoong had just been, in front of the foremast. They were watching for a sign of fire, the flash of gunpowder, but the lookout in the crow’s nest would alert them if Hongjoong made any kind of hand signal before then. 

San brushed against Yunho’s arm, and Yunho laid it over San’s shoulders, rubbing San’s tensed biceps. San clutched onto the rough fabric of Yunho’s shirt, feeling the man’s spine beneath his knuckles. Yunho felt like home, smelled like the sea, and his voice could relieve San of his stress anyday. San’s heart pumped erratically as he imagined the battle that would take place. 

Just as San was nosing into Yunho’s collarbone, the watchman gave a shout and the deck shifted into a machine of men running around and yelling. San and Jongho took places at the quarter deck as Mingi and Yunho set up where they were; every cutlass fighter had a gun fighter partnered to them, a tactic unique to their crew. It had won them many fights before, with the old captain, and was something Hongjoong kept when he took over.

Light exploded on the royal ship, and soon the Horizon was moving into position.

The cockswain maneuvered the ship, facing it parallel with the Clouded Illusion, and cannons began firing. The Horizon crew began to board the ship, swinging on the rigging hanging down from the masts as others grappled ropes onto the sides of the royal vessel. The clash of metal and rocketing of bullets rang out in the night. 

San and Jongho jumped down onto the main deck where a few royal idiots had made their way on to. San was ready to taste blood. 

Yunho was holding his own against another sword fighter, the metal gleaming unlike Yunho’s own cutlass that had blood staining it already. Mingi was locked with another, hands locked as they grappled and glared at each other in the eye. 

San jumped into the fray, leaning away from an attackers sword before jabbing with his own. He was high on the balls of his feet, practically dancing around as the man he was fighting tried slicing at him. San parried, their swords clinking, and from San’s peripheral vision he watched as Mingi kicked at his opponent’s groin, dropping him to the ground in a puddle of red wet before Mingi pulled his trigger. San pushed more on his sword, throwing the other off balance and into Jongho who began to choke him out. San sliced at his hand, making him drop his poised sword before he took a step back and glanced at the carnage around him; there were more than ten royal guards on their ship, but they were quickly overpowered by the pirates of the Horizon. More bodies lay on the deck. The ship lurched as both boats began exchanging cannon fire.

Yunho had skewered a man and was slipping him off his sword when another came up, dagger raised high. San ran and elbowed the man’s shoulder, knocking him into the foremast. His glittering dagger dropped. This man’s clothes were different; the lapels were gilded in what looked like actual gold, and there were an innumerable amount of golden pins on his jacket. San leered at him, baring his teeth in a dirty grin. The man stood frozen in his place with fear. San placed his sword in his belt before grabbing the collar of the other man’s jacket and forcing him to turn with his stomach to the mast. San tied his hands quickly behind his back with a rope hanging from the rigging. 

“You move, and I’ll make sure they give you no quarter.” With that, San moved away to survey the scene. The rest of the idiotic royal crew had been slayed, the bodies bleeding rouge. Yunho called to them;

“I think it’s time to feed the maidens. All hands!” 

On the other ship, the battle still blazed. Unfortunately for the Horizon, their captain was still aboard the other ship, so they were unable to land any finishing blows with the canons. They were only shooting chain shot and were slowly able to break down the ship’s weaker parts.  
San and Jongho dragged a body each and looked into the depths. Maidens churned the ocean, hungry. Jongho dropped his first, the splashing sound quickly overtaken by the sound of slurped feasting. San threw his and immediately turned; he still didn’t like watching the monsters despite the bloodshed he just created. 

As the others flung the dead men over the side, San strolled up to the quivering man tied at the mast. San’s lips curled, looking at his prey. He moved the man’s jacket around, searching. 

“No more weapons other than that pathetic dagger? Oh, someone must’ve wanted you to die.” San could hear the others splitting what Mingi had pillaged from the bodies between the four, but San couldn’t take his eyes off of the man in front of him. He traced his finger up the man’s throat and caressed his cheek with the back of it, rubbing gently. The man had the gaul to look disgusted with San, sneering and glancing at the ship fight still going on to his left. San wrapped his fingers around the man’s neck and ripped his gaze back to San’s face. 

“You’re pretty, I’ll give you that. But as dumb as a fish who willingly jumped on a hook. What’s your name, Golden?” The man spat at San, no more wetting his face than the sea had already and he had to laugh. San knew he should leave him to hang by his wrists, but playing with a new pet was much more fun. Yunho and the others had already ran off to join the fight as more had come over to their ship anyway. The new opponents seemed to give the two at the mast a wide berth anyways, obviously thinking the man who had no weapon and his hands tied was still capable of beating San. San knew who he was talking to by the way his clothes looked; the prince’s royal headguard, Park Seonghwa. San had been told by his father that Seonghwa only attended ships on which there was a large and often expensive bounty. The other ship cracked in the distance, taking heavy fire and Seonghwa’s eyes lurched to watch it splinter. San smirked and wiped the white spit off his face, sneakily drawing his dagger. With a quick slide, he cut the ropes holding Seonghwa to the mast, making him drop suddenly. Seonghwa’s knees buckled and he fell to the floor at San’s feet. San grabbed the remaining rope still tied around Seonghwa’s hands and dragged him into a surprisingly empty closet just below deck.

“You stay here or I’ll cut your eyes out and then eat your heart when I find you.” Seonghwa’s eyes widened as San pushed him into the closet, letting out a grunt as he once again fell to the floor. San shut the door and wedged a nearby box full of heavy rope in front of it. Then, he returned to the fight. 

As San kicked at the guards chest, knocking him down, the lookout sounded off with a call; a bird’s call to be specific. Their captain was returning, and it meant the cannons could now begin to fire carcass ammunition instead of the weaker chain type. As the cannons began firing, San knocked the last guy off the side of the ship, turning on his heels to face his sweat drenched and bloodied comrades. The ship behind him burst into flames as the Horizon whaled on it. It screamed as it went down. The voracious maidens were satisfied.

Before San could return to play with his pet, Hongjoong called everyone on deck.

The crew gathered, Hongjoong standing on a closed wooden box to be seen by all of them. He had blood staining his once yellowish shirt and his jacket was ripped in various places. A streak of blood was smeared on his cheeks but he didn’t seem to care as he called out to his faithful crew.

“Men, today, we have won!” At this, there were many screams of glee. “The royal degenerates thought they could take us as our leadership had passed to me, but today I hope I have proved myself to be a reliable leader.” The crew, once more, called out in joy. Hongjoong took a steadying breath before his next words, looking at every face on deck. “This is most definitely not going to be the last ship who has heard of our misfortunes; be always prepared. Keep your weapons on you and your partner near. If your partner has died in this battle, please see me, I will attempt to right your wrong. Eyes to-!”

“The Horizon!” The crew finished, cheering more. San moved forward, catching the eye of Hongjoong. The captain jumped down from his box and grasped San’s forearm, steering him to his quarters. 

“I would've assumed this is about your partner dying but I can see Jongho standing there mostly unwounded, what is it?” They stood outside of the red door, other men quietly appearing to also talk to the Captain.

“I’ve captured the headguard, Captain.” San spoke quietly and quickly. Hongjoongs face twisted into a surprised smile. He then patted San on the back. 

“I’ll see you later, let me get these men first.” San nodded and crossed the ship, grabbing Jongho and Yunho to pull them below deck, Mingi following a little cluelessly after. He led them to the closet, ignoring the questions thrown at him from all three. As San moved aside the box, he readied himself, preparing for Seonghwa to do a last resort maneuver. And just as he had thought, as he opened the door Seonghwa pounced on him, bringing them both to the floor. 

They tussled; San on top, gripping the golden lapels of Seonghwa’s uniform and partially ripping the stitching before using the leverage to hit him against the wood. Seonghwa grabbed San wherever he could with his hands still bound, landing on his neck. Yunho and Jongho sprung into action, managing to pull San away only after he had punched Seonghwa on the jaw. Jongho held onto the riled up guard, fighting against the way Seonghwa was fighting against him. Mingi leapt over San still on the floor to aid the youngest, taking one arm. Yunho helped San up.

“So this is what you wanted to show us? An alleycat far from home?” Yunho dusted off San’s shirt, getting out a cloth to wipe some blood off of San’s face. San pushed him away, walking up to Seonghwa and taking his face in his left hand. All San saw was revenge.

“I’d love you to meet my Captain. He can make you dance quite the jig.” Seonghwa’s eyes bulged, the fight disseminating from his body. San knew he understood what he was threatening him with; a public hanging on deck, and afterwards his body would be thrown into the sea, like any other layman who died at it. It certainly was something Seonghwa thought would never happen to him. 

Before San could make any further threats, Hongjoong clipped over to him, boots echoing through the narrow passageway. The other men straightened, Mingi and Jongho still holding onto Seonghwa’s arms who seemed more like a ragdoll than a living human at this point. 

“Nice to see you again, Seonghwa.” Seonghwa’s head tilted up, teeth set in a snarl. “I think the last time I saw you, we were both still boys working at the apothecary, weren’t we?” He said nothing. 

The others looked at each other, both wearing similar expressions of confusion. They had never heard this story before. Though Hongjoong wasn’t the closest to the group, they were still of similar age and therefore, had been put together in the sleeping chambers. When two of them had to stay up to watch on deck or in the crow's nest, one of them would always be Hongjoong. 

Hongjoong was full of tales; he could weave anything into a miraculous story, could leave anyone awaiting his next word with the tone of his voice. He was able to keep them up to watch. But they had never heard of this story. 

Hongjoong grew closer to Seonghwa, rocking in his spot and choosing his words carefully.

“Or was the last time when you framed me and took my spot on the guard, leaving me to starve on the streets again as you lived greedily in the palace?” At this, Seonghwa pushed forward, almost knocking the boys holding him off their feet. The rope around his hands began to tear by the sheer force of anger he held in his tensed muscles. 

“You know that’s not true, Hongjoong!” He screamed, face reddening. “I would-“ “Shut him up for me, Jongho.” At Hongjoong’s command, Jongho swung at Seonghwa’s gut, forcing a grunt from the desperate man. Blood dripped down from his lips. San moved to stand next to Yunho as Hongjoong swayed towards Seonghwa, his eyes still on Hongjoongs figure. Hongjoong stared right back before gently leaving a kiss on his jaw, the spot bleeding from when San had punched him. Hongjoongs lips came away red. “Take him to my cabin. Let’s talk this over like men, Seonghwa.” 

San stared at the swirling ocean; they were quickly making their way to a nearby pirating town, in need of repairs and washing. The sky twinkled with stars, but the stars didn’t glow brighter than the reflection of the moonlight on her hair. She had been tailing the boat ever since the battle ended. One time, she had surfaced and San had seen crimson staining her skin and teeth. She had obviously taken part in the meal along with her sisters earlier, and was now showing off to San. It was a subtle threat.

When she surfaced for a second time, giggling deep enough that San could hear it through the wax still stuffed in his ears, he moved to the quarterdeck. It was high enough that he could take the wax out, so he did. She followed, and San could see her pout when she realized her voice could not reach him. He watched her fall under the water until her dark figure could be seen no more.

A creaking behind him alerted him to a presence, and San turned around, spotting Hongjoong. San stood straighter, and readied himself for a command. Hongjoong waved his hand at him. 

“Let us be friends in the night, San. I believe it’s been a harrowing battle for the both of us, so some comfort is due.” San relaxed, letting Hongjoong come closer and lean against the wooden barrier of the ship where San was. He had freshened up; shirt changed into a midnight blue one, black pants, and a black jacket hemmed in white thread. San stayed in his stained tan shirt and grey pants, not yet being able to change, his head still spinning from the battle. Hongjoong glanced at San, and made up his mind. 

“Your father was not aboard that ship, San. I still don’t know where he’s fled to.” San tensed and Hongjoong gently took his fists into his own small hands, intertwining their fingers. “I will find him,” he looked San in his eyes. “That is a Captain’s promise.” 

The next day, the boat had docked. The creatures that once swirled the ocean had gone down to the depths to sleep, letting the men be free of the wax that had plagued their hearing. San and Yunho were off to their usual swordsmith, Mingi and Jongho tagging along, needing to properly get their guns clean.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going, San?” Mingi’s voice called from where he was walking with Jongho. San scoffed and shrugged his shoulders, taking a left. Right in front of them hung a sign. 

“Suck my dick, you wag.” The group entered, an old man coming up. They quickly got their weapons in, the man telling them to come back later. As they walked out the door, San elbowed Mingi, Mingi doing the same back. They jabbed each other back and forth before Jongho lifted a yelping San and placed him next to Yunho. They continued down the dark cobble streets, avoiding people as they came out of alleyways, trying to lure them to spend their pillaged gold on pleasure. Mingi winked at all of them, Jongho scrunching his face as he saw the older’s actions. 

“You know,” Mingi started as they came up on the dock. “Maybe I will suck your dick, San. It’s been a while and I’ve missed being surprised.” At this, San tackled Mingi. The two laughed and rolled around. Yunho and Jongho continued to the edge of the dock, sitting at it and hanging their legs over. 

“Hey! Come up here and help with repairs.” Yunho’s dad called from the boat. “I know you’re still young boys, but come on, work to do.” The boys scrambled to get on board, immediately being given jobs and led to different parts of the ship to help with repairs.

As he was polishing the handrail of the stairs leading to the quarterdeck, Hongjoong called out for San. He gave Yunho’s dad an apologetic nod, throwing the rag at Mingi’s chest before going over to his captain.

“I would like to talk to you about our little… prize. He has just awoken, come with me.” Feeling the curious glances of his friends on him, he flipped them off as he walked with Hongjoong, dropping his hand as they went through the Captain’s door. 

The Captain’s quarters were large, about as big as two of the regular sleeping chambers put together; a bed lay in the corner, a desk taking up the majority of the other side divided by the doorway. Seonghwa was sitting at a chair in front of the desk, relaxed. He turned as the two entered, almost immediately reacting with anger as he laid his eyes on San. He clutched onto the arms of the chair, teeth gritted. San took the other chair next to him, feeling the soft navy velvet of the cushion beneath his calloused fingers. Hongjoong stood in front of them, behind the dark wood desk. 

“I have a proposition, I hope it will be good enough for the both of you. San, I believe it is in your best interest to agree, but I will not pressure you. You are your own man.” San nodded. Seonghwa glared. “I suggest we bring Seonghwa back to the king.”

San paced the deck, practically making a track of where his feet had been. Hongjoong had to be going mad. He had to have gotten sick. He HAD to have- San’s pacing stopped abruptly as he ran into Yunho. Yunho draped his arms around San’s body and San dug into him, needing the comfort.

“I don’t really know what this is about, but considering it came after you talked with the Captain, I assume it’s something bad.” San shuddered, head suddenly throbbing. Yunho was so gentle with him. He didn’t deserve any of it. 

“You know the guard I captured?” Yunho made a humming sound. “Hongjoong wants us to bring him back to the king.” Yunho tensed. “Exactly.” San’s voice came muffled. Yunho ran his hands up and down San’s back, feeling the roughness of his shirt. 

“I don’t know what to do.” San knew he sounded pitiful, but in Yunho’s arms, on the sea, even if the boat wasn’t moving yet, he felt at home.

“What did the Captain say?” San groaned into Yunho’s neck. He softly disentangled himself from the long man. 

“He said that this could be a way of protecting us, telling them we’d get them their headguard back if they stop coming for our ship.” Yunho nodded.

“I mean, that sounds logical.” San groaned louder. 

“It doesn’t mean shit, Yunho. Even if we give Seonghwa back, they’ll still try to take us down. They might not even want Seonghwa back!” Yunho looked confused. “All Seonghwa had when he jumped our ship, was a fucking dagger. You don’t send a valuable man in only with a dagger unless he’s trying to be stealthy or he’s really good with one. And obviously he doesn’t have the best skills.” San stomped away from Yunho, leaning over the rail. In the daylight, ship unmoving, the water was eerily still, a few fish swimming, but not much else. Yunho walked over to him, rubbing his shoulder blade before stepping back. 

“I’ll leave you to think, San.”

San stood and he would’ve stood there all day if it weren’t for Jongho getting him, telling him to see Hongjoong. As San made his walk, going slow as to give himself more time to prepare his answer, he couldn’t help but think of his father. He tried to imagine what his cowardly father would say. He stopped in front of the door. San took a breath before knocking. 

San had only been to Cadelia in brief moments; helping his father unload the Wavemaker but always ending up distracted and running off with his friends, eyes glazed at the polished stone that lined the clean, cobble streets, so very different from the dark, damp wood he was used to treading as a young boy. Even now, as San watched the boat dock in from where he was holding a rope to throw out to one of the men who had jumped onto the pier to tie it off, he was still in awe. But, deep in his stomach, a seed of anticipation and gloom grew. If his father was anywhere, it would be here. 

San threw out the rope to Mingi, watching as more men grabbed onto it and pulled the boat in. They were docked, no going back now. Jongho joined San in watching, laying a gentle hand on San’s back. 

“I know things are gonna be hard for you, being here, ‘n’ all. If it gets too much, I’m always your partner.” San gave him a smile and Jongho left his side. 

“San,” called Hongjoong. “Come here, please. Let’s discuss.” San followed closely, waving to Yunho and his father as they passed by on their way off the boat. 

When San arrived in Hongjoong’s quarters, he found not only Seonghwa waiting for him, but another man. His hair was short and black, clothes looking like Seonghwa’s uniform had, minus all the pins. Seonghwa had since changed into less ripped and bloodied clothes, a plain shirt and pants. He almost didn’t resemble the man San remembered from that night, if not for the way he held his head up high, staring down his nose at both San and Hongjoong as they entered. 

“Captain Hongjoong, this is the man who saved my headguard?” Seonghwa looked disturbed, but said nothing. San nodded and held out his hand. The other man’s hands felt soft, not hardened like San’s. “My name is Junhee. I’m a messenger to the King.”

“Choi San, nice to meet you, Junhee.” The messenger looked San deep in the eyes as if searching San’s soul. 

“I feel like I’ve met you before, San.” Junhee stood straight, feathers ruffled as he tried wracking his brain for a Choi San. “Did your father work for one of our ships? The one that sank-``

''The Wavemaker.” San inputted. Seonghwa and Hongjoong exchanged glances, the two moving closer to confer quietly. San saw an opportunity. Twisting his body lightly, San tried to make himself look as wistful as possible, bringing tears to his eyes.

“I always wondered where my father had gone.” His voice choked as he said the last word and Junhee immediately came closer to the boy, brushing over San’s arms in an attempt at comfort. 

“It’s alright, San,” Junhee hushed him. “I… I don’t believe I’m supposed to tell his whereabouts. but he’s still working for the crown. He’s regaled as a hero.” Junhee smiled lovingly at San. If only he knew how his words tore the others heart out, spearing it with a blade before shooting it dead. San didn’t know how long he could keep his regretful act up, fists clenched at his sides and eyebrows pinching together as Junhee kept petting him. He stole a glance at Hongjoong.

“That’s great to hear, Junhee.” Hongjoong slid in between the two men, making Junhee drop his arm. “Let’s talk over the day, shall we? My men have already been told of the potential week we’re spending here, so let’s talk on how we’re going to spend that week.” 

“Of course, old friend.” 

After the meeting, San had been dismissed to clear his head before going to what Junhee had said was ‘the finest tailor in the land of Cadelia.’ San only felt disdain for the pure man, wondering how he could be so naive at his age. 

San made his way off the boat, stopping momentarily to take in the waves of the sea on the gangplank. A bird squawked over his head, and he made his way down to the dock.

He didn’t feel safe in the town; no matter how nicely the people smiled at him, no matter how sweet the air was, he just didn’t feel comfortable. San instinctively gripped the dagger hilt at his belt, wanting to be ready. Yet, he didn’t know what to be ready for. The sun gleamed on the marble lined streets, reflecting iridescence, reminding San of something. Maybe that’s why he was so on-guard; the whole city was shining rainbows, reminding him of her. Even the palace, of which he could see just the top few towers, seemed to radiate the same light.

The feeling of unease didn’t rest. It climbed high into his lungs and strangled him from the inside out. San stumbled backwards, accidentally crashing into an old lady. He stumbled back more, apologizing until his back hit an alley wall. He tried to take a steadying breath, clenching and unclenching his hands around the hilt of his dagger. His hearing went out, the sounds around him turning into a hum. His chest was tight, visions of the maiden swimming in his mind; of her, wrangling him into the dark depths and snapping her jaws around his neck; her iridescent hair flickering as she trapped him against a grotto wall and clawed his eyes out with her nails; her sharp teeth carving a target into his chest right before she ate his still beating heart. San spasmed, hitting his head hard against the wall behind him. He dug his dirty fingernails into his palm, trying to ground himself. He thought of Mingi; his forever warm body contrasting with the cold spray of the ocean. He thought of Jongho; how he could be so strong at times but so gentle when needed. He thought of Yunho; his first true friend, his home. The sound returned to his ears, and he could hear yelling in the distance. It sounded like a mess and San clambered up, and ran in the direction. He needed to feel the adrenaline of a fight, needed to feel something other than what he was feeling. Something was pulling him to the commotion.

San turned a corner and the back of Yunho’s dad came into vision. His knees were buckled, arms limp to the ground with his sword knocked a few cubits away. A scimitar stuck through his chest, the point of it stained crimson. He gurgled as it was pulled out, falling to the dirty ground. San stood still as his father came into view.

He looked as surprised as San, but where San quickly got over it, San’s father seemed stuck in a nightmarish reverie. San launched himself at his father, unhooking the dagger on his belt. He saw red, everything happening in a sickening slow motion. He heard other people running, footsteps thumping on the ground, but all he cared about was the look of terror in his father’s eyes as he raised the blade above his head. He could hear people calling out his name, his own father crying, but it was all blocked as he sunk the weapon into the man’s heart. 

San was ripped away by multiple arms. His dagger dropped out of his hands, connected to the body on the ground by a series of blood drops. San could hear Yunho calling for him, but he was dragged away. San’s vision cleared enough to see red uniforms, fitting of the Cadelian guard. San found Hongjoong’s distressed face as Junhee started arguing with him, but San was quickly pulled off, leaving the cacophony. He was heading towards the palace. 


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pt. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> decided to split this into two chapters like a month after i posted it oops
> 
> thank you to those who have kudos'd and commented and bookmarked already, i love you ♥ and i love all the new readers who havent yet

San scratched his fingernails against the cool stone floor; the cell he was in was almost entirely stone, save for a heavy wooden door with a small window the guards had been talking to him from. He assumed he had been there for around two days; the food was served on a strict schedule, two guards always accompanying the meal to make sure he didn’t sneak the cutlery, and a little grate at the top of the far wall sometimes shone, but San didn’t know if it was from the sun or the moon.

All the lower guards had masks on, leaving San to guess that the one without one was the head. They all called him ‘Jung’ and San came to use his name as a way to make the other guards flinch if they got too rough with him. The only time San ever saw Jung was when he was first brought into the palace. His uniform was more adorned than the others and the chains at his wrists had dug into the soft flesh of San’s underarm when he dragged San down to where the cells were. San hadn’t kept conscious long that day; the guards were rowdy and vengeful, hitting him hard into the wall he had been attached to when they swung for his face. He had seen the auroras behind his eyelids, an explosion of beautiful colors that he didn’t deserve to see. The guards hurled insults, but they weren’t as bad as the voice in San’s head, reminding him of what he had become.

San had managed to keep his adrenaline high, dreams on a repeat when he was able to sleep. San didn’t feel anxious about his potential death, he was cruelly elated, almost in a trance as he scratched the floor. The metal cuffs on his wrists and ankles bit into his skin, but San couldn’t care less. His veins were still jumping, phantom pains barely felt as he sat on the cold rock. He continued digging in the ground subconsciously. San was too busy thinking. If they were gonna kill him, they would have made up their minds by now. San hoped grimly that he wouldn’t be fed to the maidens alive. 

It was the sound of the door being unlocked that brought him back to life. Two guards entered and San tensed; they weren’t holding his dinner. Then, another man walked in: the prince, Kang Yeosang. San’s face split into a grin. Yeosang wore a tight jacket, white with panels of what San could assume to be iridescent fabric. Gold lapels framed the look and San imagined him in the sunlight, shining as he assumed all princes did. Yeosang looked at him with pity and San’s fantasy turned grimy. With a wave of his hand, Yeosang dismissed the guards. The guards seemed to have malfunctioned as they flinched between staying with their prince or leaving him with a murderer. 

“He’s chained to a wall; what danger could he be to me? Leave. If at all, just leave Jung at the door.” The guards seemed to have understood the command finally, clearing the room. 

Yeosang’s gaze no longer held pity, his dark eyes analyzing the boy in front of him. 

“Choi San, correct?” San let out a little laugh.

“And you’re the Cadelian prince, Yeosang. Said to be as pure as a rose with no thorns.” San’s voice changed, turning sing-songy. “But you should know, no rose is grown without thorns.” Yeosang blinked, a judging eyebrow raised. 

“That’s a new compliment, I will give you that.” Yeosang crouched down, far enough so that San wouldn’t be able to reach him. “I’ve been told many stories about your father, but not one of them has given me a reason whatsoever as to why you killed him. He’s called a hero, leader of the only group of men to make it back from the wreckage alive.” Something in San’s face must’ve changed as Yeosang spoke, because he suddenly sat cross-legged in front of San. 

“Except, you were there, were you not? Care to enlighten me with your side of the story?” 

San couldn’t say how many times Yeosang’s face changed as he recounted his tale; switching from bored to worried to disgusted all in a matter of minutes. As San talked on how the only thing his father had been good for was telling tales of mermaids and sirens and teaching him where a man’s heart lay, Yeosang stood.

“Oh—but where are you going? My story’s not done yet.” San pouted some. Yeosang shuffled to the door and San noted that Yeosang was a man of little words, but big actions. He opened the door and called out for the ‘Jung’ person. Jung entered, chains on his clothes chiming with every step. Yeosang shut the door after him. San clacked his chains as he shifted, looking the stranger over. He had a beauty spot under his eye, something San hadn’t been able to see when he was picked up. Jung regarded him with caution, whereas Yeosang regarded him with pity. San preferred Jung. 

“You were right, Wooyoung. He’s guilty.” The room shifted and San helplessly slumped, head cradled between his collarbones. “But I believe the sins that his father has done unto him has washed his son’s guilt away. I retract my original statement of a hanging. Let him be free.” Yeosang’s voice carried an odd cadence to it. San’s head shot up, and Wooyoung held the same incredulous expression. 

“But, Yeosang, I don’t think I can do that.” Yeosang grumbled something, scoffing at how his guards never listened. “I’m just saying, your father would have my head if I set him free. I just got my job back, Sang.” Yeosang stilled and looked at Wooyoung, rolling his eyes. He crouched again, much closer to San, close enough that he could glide his hand down San’s dirty face. 

“You don’t wanna touch me, rose. I’m too impure for you.” San smiled at his own joke, chains rattling. Yeosang shook his head.

“You are a sad man.” Yeosang lifted his hand and brought it back, leaving stingingly loud slap burning on San’s face. “I obviously didn’t mean for you to free him, you idiot. He will be put to trial and judged by the council. I will not grant him freedom. Please pick up on my sarcasm, Wooyoung. We’ve been friends for too long.” San’s hair covered his face, only able to see their shoes as the two left him alone. His cheek burned, Yeosang’s rings leaving marks of which had begun to bleed slightly. 

San’s mind whirled, thinking of his father. He thought back to when he killed him, trying to revisit his thoughts, trying to bring up some kind of emotion, but he felt nothing. San began to cry, the running drops making echoes in his empty cell as they fell. Those echoes then getting drowned out by his wails as he broke further, bending so that his head almost reached the ground from where he sat on his knees.

San could tell a couple of hours had passed, but he didn’t know how long he had been in the same position for. His wrists and ankles ached. He didn’t know how long they could take being cuffed with rough metal, but San could guess the threshold was close with how his skin felt like it was splitting. His back practically howled in pain, his whole body beginning to ache as the moon slipped in through a little grate in the far wall to the door. Said door opened, revealing proper-looking shoes. San tilted his head up, seeing a hazy Seonghwa. His uniform was back in place, pins looking shiny. San only hiccuped at him, not able to make any quips. What San had tried to make into a laugh easily turned into a crying fit, his body twitching against his restraints. Seonghwa sighed.

“I wish I could say I like seeing you like this, San, but it only makes me feel bad for you.” Seonghwa took a knee and gently held San’s face in one hand, mirroring the prince from earlier. He smoothed over San’s cheek, grunting when he felt the still inflamed skin from Yeosang’s rings. Seonghwa rubbed San’s tears away, making soft sounds in an attempt to get him to stop. He brushed his palm in front of San’s mouth, feeling his trembling lips before moving it to pat San’s head.

“They’re going to put you to trial in two hours. I will see you before then. Be ready.” With that, Seonghwa knocked on the door to alert the guards he was finished. He spared one last glance at San, still bowing with his head tilted to the floor, before leaving. San smiled, the taste of iron filling his mouth.

The next time Seonghwa came around, two guards accompanied him. The door closed behind the group, deep and final. 

“These guards and I are here to prepare you for the trial. Are you ready to face the council, Choi San?” San chuckled, eyeing the guards and their weapons hanging at their sides

“Are you ready, golden? ‘Cause I sure am.” San shooks his wrists, the unlocked cuffs falling and clanging as they hit the stone. Seonghwa spun, kneeing one of the guards as he took the man’s sword, throwing it to the freed San. The other drew his and San parried his attempt at hitting Seonghwa. 

San and the guard faced off, posturing until the guard made the first move. Seonghwa and the other guard locked together, punching and kicking until Seonghwa was able to draw his dagger across the other man’s throat. San and the remaining guard moved across the cell, San moving him into a position where Seonghwa could kick him in the groin, bringing him to his knees with a painful groan. Seonghwa took the guard by the back of his collar, choking him. The guard scrambled, dropping his sword. His hands pulled at his jacket collar in an attempt to breath, ripping the material. San walked up to the helpless man. The moonlight shone on his beauty marked face.

“Hello, Wooyoung. Let’s be friends.” 

It was easy enough to sneak past the other guards with San ‘chained’ between Seonghwa and Wooyoung. They didn’t even suspect anything, giving an acknowledging ‘Jung’ as the man passed. It’s as if they didn’t notice the same way his teeth and shoulders were clenched, obviously not a fan of the plan he was forced to be a part of. The trio continued down the hall and up the flight of stairs that opened to the prison ward, stopping at the top. Wooyoung seemed floaty, shifting back and forth on his feet as if he were going to make a break. Seonghwa jabbed Wooyoung in the back, pushing him forward. 

“We’re going to the docks. Don’t stop or else.” 

If any of the palace officials thought that bringing a prisoner to the royal docks before killing him was weird, they said nothing. San assumed it was because the new headguard was leading them; no one would tell them shit if they didn’t want to get in trouble. San closed his eyes as they walked outside, finally able to feel the dazzling light hitting his skin and smell the sea. He felt refreshed. Ready. 

The Horizon was tied to the dock, the gentleness of her rocking mirroring the feeling in San’s heart. A few guards passed, looking curiously at the trio surveying the ship, but they said nothing. A group of people stood around, whether they were part of the Horizon’s crew or not, San couldn’t tell.

“Well, let’s go.” Announced Seonghwa, continuing to push Wooyoung forward. Wooyoung began to splutter.

“What do you mean? I’m going nowhere with you!” Seonghwa pressed close to the man, Sam following in an attempt to cover. San admired the way Seonghwa’s dagger gleamed in the moonlight as he forced Wooyoung forward with it.

“You’ll go anywhere I say. While I’m still alive, I’m in charge.” Wooyoung looked desperate, eyes searching for someone, before he kicked out at Seonghwa’s stomach. San wrapped the chain between his hands around Wooyoung’s wrists, bringing him close fast. He hit their heads together, wrapping his leg around Wooyoung’s thigh to further bring him down. San fell atop him, straddling the guard. Wooyoung struggled against him, pushing at his shoulders, but Seonghwa grabbed them before he could dislodge San. San used the chain again, pressing it onto Wooyoung’s neck. 

“You make one fucking sound and you’re dead.” San whispered, able to hear Wooyoung gulp with how close he was to the man. “We’ll let you go, but you have to promise not to say anything.” San sat up, chain still on Wooyoung’s neck but no longer pressing on it. It was a presence, a subtle threat. Seonghwa let Wooyoung’s hands go, crouching behind his head. No one said anything, until Wooyoung nodded.

“No can do, Woo.” Seonghwa tsked. “Speak up, you were always known for being so loud when we were boys, but now you clam up when another person’s on top of you?” Wooyoung turned red.

“I promise. But,” he started. “If my King makes do something against you, you can’t hold me to it.” He was breathing heavily, and San could tell he was affected; not only scared by the threat but slightly interested in the way San held the chain against his throat whilst sitting on him. San looked to Seonghwa.

“I think we’ll take you up on that condition. However,” San shifted closer to Wooyoung, close enough that Seonghwa couldn’t hear what he was saying. “If word gets back that you snitched, I’ll make sure to find you and make you cry. But you would like that, wouldn’t you?” With that, San stood and let Wooyoung get up by himself. From the palace, bells started to chime.

“Let’s get going.”

Seonghwa ran up the gangplank, San following closely. San threw a wink over his shoulder at Wooyoung before he placed his focus on the ship. The group of people at the dock began quickly untying the boat, setting her free. Wooyoung ran through them to get to the palace.

The Horizon had just raised sails when a large group of guards, these ones wearing black uniforms, had spilled onto the walkway to the pier. Hongjoong stood at the helm, directing the cockswain. A few of the guards began to shoot, but their measly bullets ricocheted off the hull. San watched the dock as the Horizon pulled away. Yeosang stood where he had just minutes before been threatening Wooyoung. He was shining in iridescence. 

San hadn’t seen Yunho since the boat had left Cadelia; Mingi and Jongho had been preparing the ship for moving, but the gentle giant had been oddly missing. When San had looked in their shared sleeping quarters, Yunho was nowhere to be found. He must’ve looked lost, wandering the ship he had been on for over ten years, because Hongjoong called him over to him. 

Hongjoong still stood near the helm, looking to the bow of the ship. Hongjoong brought San nearer by his shoulder when he approached. Together, they watched the ship work; Mingi was helping the ropesman tie knots above their heads, younger kids were washing the deck and play fighting with the mops; Jongho sat near the bow, cleaning his gun meticulously. 

“Yunho’s in my cabin.” San sharply turned his head to face his captain. Hongjoong still stared at the people of his crew. “If you were someone else, I would’ve told them to give him space, but you’re his best friend.” Hongjoong looked him in the eyes. “I trust you’ll find comfort each other. Just be cautious; I don’t believe he knows the full story, nor does anyone on the ship.” San rocked on his feet before nodding at his captain, unable to speak. “Go. If you see Seonghwa, please tell him to meet me here.” San walked fast, jumping down the stairs. 

Seonghwa sat hidden at the bottom of them and San nudged him towards the helm, not looking back as he beelined to the captains quarters. He stopped himself, taking a second to compose his thoughts before knocking. When no response came, he knocked again and gave out a soft warning.

“I know I’m probably the worst person to talk to you right now, but we don’t have to talk if you don’t wanna.” San slowly opened the door, as if preparing for something to jump out, but all that happened was him seeing Yunho. He lay on the bed in the corner, entangled in the sheets. San could see from the door that his eyes were a deep red, glistening tear tracks drying on his cheeks. 

Yunho gave a wail, and San ran to gather him in his arms. San sat there as sobs echoed in the chamber, Yunho rocking back and forth in his arms. San made gentle sounds at him, leading Yunho to lay down with his head atop San's chest. San cradled the other’s head, running his hands through the salt-textured hair in what he thought was a comforting way. San had never done this before, it was always Yunho comforting him. San was lost as his friend’s tears soaked through his shirt. 

Yunho was always so happy; even when San hung all of Yunho’s pants on the bowstill, making him waddle across the ship and bend over naked to get them, even when San yelled at him for pushing himself too hard, Yunho always smiled. When San couldn’t find it in his heart to try and live with the pirates at first, Yunho was there to be a bridge. But now, when San had to shoulder his pain, San realized that Jongho might not be the strongest. 

San continued scratching Yunho’s head and rubbing his back, enveloping the crying man’s head in what San hoped was comfort. 

When San tried to move, arms stiff from the way he slept, he found he couldn’t move far. A weight lay upon his chest, and as San ran his hands up the weight, the memories of what had happened came roaring back to San. Yunho lay still on his chest, breathing quietly. There were dry tears gathered around his eyes and San wet his thumb, wiping them away. 

A cough sounded in the room, making San jump. Hongjoong sat at his desk, a map and a journal open with a used quill laying on top. He casually waved at San before picking the quill up and beginning to scratch in the journal again. The cadence of the scratches lined up with the crash of the waves on the hull, harmonizing a sweet sea melody that sent San back into sleep’s embrace, nose buried in Yunho’s hair. 

It was Yunho that woke San up, moving around the small bed. San grasped Yunho’s wrist as he turned to face the wall. Time stopped as Yunho twisted to look at San. Once again, San felt helpless and lost, staring into the broken, searching eyes of his best friend. A broken friend who had just lost his father, killed by his best friend’s father. San’s thoughts turned dark. Fate was a great rigger, the best in the business, able to tie the most beautimous knots. 

“Please don’t shut me out.” It sounded as if San was the one who had been bawling, voice craggly. “We need to talk about this. Please hear me out.” Yunho slumped, laying on his side but still facing San, which San considered a win. San turned to him, now two parallel lines lying on the bed. Yunho looked at San, eyes shining, and it took all the power in San not to crumple right there; he looked so young, so pure. But San had been pure too, once upon a time. Yunho deserved to know the truth as much as San had known about his own father. 

“I don’t know why my father did it, and that’s one of my biggest mistakes.” San’s breathing wavered. Yunho cupped his face touching the pillow, letting San absorb it’s warmth. The two parallel lines now somehow intercepting in the space of the bed. San didn’t deserve Yunho’s kindness. He clutched at Yunho’s wrist, needing to feel something for himself.

“And for that,” San continued. “I will be forever guilty. I do not deserve to be held by you, I deserve to be hung as the monster I am. It would do everyone a service if you got rid of me, erase my identity from history.” San sniffled, but he ignored the tears running down his face and onto Yunho’s palm. 

“If you wish to keep me, lock me up. Cage me. Use me for my anger as the beast that I am. As the monster that I’ve become. It’s all I deserve. I’m just no good to anyone in the form of a freed man.” San started to sob now, tears running freely down his face. They gathered daintily at his chin before dropping onto the sheets. Yunho began crying, too. Their tears mixed on the bed, and they brought their bodies together, shaking and holding each other. 

San heard the scratches begin again, but he was too drained to focus on remembering what that meant; all that he cared about was what Yunho had to say. If Yunho didn’t want him, if Yunho wanted him to die right now, San would, without hesitation. He would pick up a dagger and slit his own throat, he would jump off the starboard rail and let the maidens feast; he would do anything if it meant Yunho would be happy again. 

Through the cries, San could hear Yunho whispering. Over and over again, Yunho’s words rang clear in San’s head, washing him over in pink light.

“I forgive you. I love you. Please, San, don’t forget that.” 

They fell again, Sleep pulling the covers over both of their bodies. San rested fully, for once. He wasn’t disturbed by pains, leading him to talk with the comforting ocean. He had his ocean, right in his arms. 

The next day, San woke up to a smiling Yunho and he felt his heart burst. San gently brushed his bangs away from his face and gave Yunho’s cheeks a pat.

“Are you okay?” San hated how weak his voice sounded, but he found himself not caring as Yunho nodded his head and grinned even more.

“I’m glad you’re okay, too.” Yunho took San’s hand and sat up, leading the other to follow and mimic his position. “I think I’ll be fine.” Something looked off in Yunho’s eyes. “I was kinda expecting it to happen sometime. Didn’t think it would be on land, though. That sucks whale dick.” San snorted, not expecting the joking tone. Yunho giggled, too, watching San’s mouth curl. 

Suddenly, everything felt right. 

San knew that it wasn’t over though; the King would surely go after them, but at the moment, with Yunho content in his arms, San felt like he was a king. 

A knock rapped on the door, breaking the loving trance the duo had fallen under. Hongjoong peeked in, nodding at them as he walked in further. Seonghwa followed shortly after. San and Yunho welcomed them onto the small bed, making room as they climbed on. 

“This isn’t the most conventional of meeting tables, but at the moment I suppose it’ll work.” Seonghwa’s eyebrows quirked. Hongjoong groaned, running his hands through his hair and irritating the strands. 

“I thought we worked enough on getting that mast out of your ass. You chose this, get over it.” San raised a small hand, waving it slightly to get his Captain’s attention. Everyone stared at him expectantly. 

“Why did you choose this, Golden? Didn’t peg you for the type, but then again, I never really thought about you and pegging before.” Seonghwa shifted sharply on the sheets, making as if to lunge for San’s throat, but before he could Hongjoong pressed a hand to his chest.

“Let’s just say I’m good with words.” Seonghwa scoffed.

“You’re good with your mouth, I’ll agree to that.” Hongjoong backhanded his pec, making the former royal headguard cry out. Seonghwa pouted furiously as Hongjoong ignored him and continued to talk about the topic at hand.

“One of my men stayed in Cadelia and has since been sending messages to me. He says that the King is calling for our heads delivered directly to the palace.” San felt Yunho tense beside him, and tried to calm him by rubbing over his knuckles.

“I’ve gotten no correspondence from Jung, but by the way Seonghwa recounted the whole ordeal, it’s probably for the better.” This time, San tensed, the memory of caging Wooyoung to the wooden deck coming to surface. 

“The King would be working Jung harshly now, trying to track us. To make it easier, I told my correspondent a meeting point. That’s where the end will begin, I hope.” Hongjoong swept his eyes over the gathered men, assessing. 

“I want everyone to be in their prime. We will arrive in three days time, be ready for anything.” Hongjoong slipped off the bed first, helping Seonghwa ungracefully off before he waved goodbye to the two on the bed. San still had a question though.

“Say, Captain,” Hongjoong stopped and turned to face him. “Where have you been staying? We kinda took over your bed.” Hongjoong chirped a laugh and Seonghwa quickly ducked out of the door.

“Don’t worry, San. Seonghwa’s been keeping me warm.” San made a disgusted sound and Yunho fell over on the bed laughing. Hongjoong shut the door. 

Yunho and San stood at the starboard side, watching as the waves crashed against the ship in a soothing rhythm. They had finally gotten out of the Captain’s quarters, much to the joy of their friends who had missed them. It was two days till the meeting, till the battle. San was still weak from being chained up and Yunho was still emotionally drained, but as they stood hand-in-hand they felt a glowing energy rising inside them. 

They found harmony in each other as they turned suddenly and began to fight, swords flashing in the evening light. 

They danced a dance of metal and light; San parrying as Yunho sliced at him, metal singing a song of love. Yunho jabbed and San twirled around him, taking an opening that Yunho easily dodged. They swayed together across the deck and found a rhythm that matched the two to the rock of the boat; as San jabbed, Yunho dodged, as Yunho swung, San parried. The ship rumbled left and right with each of their moves, creating a synergy. The rest of the crew, those not working, had gathered on the quarterdeck and near the helm to watch the couple.  
Yunho changed up the steps, faking San out with a jab but moving closer and forcing him to the foremast. 

San swept his sword in front of him and Yunho parried it. With the mast at his back, San dug into the wooden floor, Yunho doing the same. With a screech, their cutlasses ground against each other. San rotated his sword, but Yunho was already doing the same, and their weapons went flying out across the deck in different directions. The two stood there, both empty handed and both filled with happiness. Yunho started laughing and San joined in, the two falling to the deck as the crew watched on. 

Hongjoong and Seonghwa stood in the doorway to Hongjoong’s room, watching fondly.  
“They’ll be alright.” Murmured Seonghwa, caressing Hongjoong’s hand. Hongjoong nodded, watching as Mingi and Jongho picked up San and Yunho’s swords and began making  
fun of their display. “They’ll be just fine, my love.”

San was famished after practicing, hunger only driven to an increase as Mingi and Jongho had joined in, making them practice two versus two. 

San had just brought his food outside when a fat bird landed on the deck in front of him. He stared curiously at the bird, before noticing a small parcel attached to the bird’s ankle. The pigeon cooed as San practically dropped the plate and fell to his knees, untying the present. San, not knowing what to do with the pigeon, held him by the feet in the air. San thought of Hongjoong’s correspondent on Cadelia.

The bird began to peck at San’s hand and San ran to the Captain’s quarters. He only realized his hands were full as he got to the door and began using his head to knock. Hongjoong flung open the door and his eyes widened as he saw his crew member holding a pigeon with a bloody hand. Hongjoong led San inside and helped him shove the bird into a cage on the desk before taking the parcel. San whined at his aching hand and stomach. He had forgotten to grab his food. San stood in the quarters, stomach rumbling as Hongjoong ripped open the package. San couldn’t read, so he was only able to go off what Hongjoong’s face said, and San assumed something bad had happened. 

“What is it, Hongjoong?” Hongjoong worried his lip, fingers brushing over the letter as if to change the words. 

“Jung is going to be hanged.” 

Hongjoong stood on the deck, on top of a closed wooden box. It was one day until the scheduled meeting. Hongjoong clasped the letter in his jacket pocket, shaking slightly. 

“Men of the Horizon, men of my crew. As you all know, a big battle will be fought tomorrow.” Hongjoong cracked a small smile. “I hoped you’ve all rested and trained well. As some of you may not know, there was one variable we were counting on. A very important figure in this battle. We,” Hongjoong closed his eyes and tried to focus on getting the words out. “We can no longer count on that variable.” Whispers broke out in the gathered men and Hongjoong clapped to draw their attention back.

“We will arrive at Ardesia tomorrow morning. Expect resistance almost immediately. If you must, gunners, sleep with the cannons. We’re going for peace, but if they shoot first, make sure to shoot last.” Hongjoong took one last look, trying to remember all his men’s faces. He might not get to talk to them tomorrow, or ever.

“Thank you.” Hongjoong stepped off and called over Yunho and San.

Seonghwa hadn’t joined the meeting, too busy making readjustments to the plan already. 

Jongho and Mingi followed curiously, tired of being left out. Hongjoong smiled at their faces and let them into the chamber. 

Seonghwa was still sitting in the chair behind the desk, quill scratching over parchment as he wrote. He only stopped as everyone filed in and Hongjoong closed the door. 

“I believe I have found a way to make things work.” Hongjoong walked around to read what Seonghwa had written. Mingi swayed on his feet, too excited to stand still.

“We’ll, let’s hear it!” Mingi called out, lifting everyone’s spirits by an inch as they laughed at his eagerness. They all gathered closer as Seonghwa began talking.

They celebrated that evening as if they had already won the battle; drinking and singing and dancing their hearts out. They did not know how long they had to live, so they decided to give one last hurrah before greeting the warm arms of Death. 

San swung around, arm clasped with Jongho’s as a gunner sang about a woman he left for his true love, the sea. San switched and hooked onto Mingi’s, Jongho now paired with another one of the crew.

Yunho hadn’t joined yet, which San found odd; if there was dancing, usually there was Yunho. San chalked his aloofness to him still being drained; San would let him charge up, as they all needed to. 

As Mingi swung San around, his strength heightened by his happiness, San saw a flash of color in the sea. The sun was still up, about an hour until the crew would have to stuff their ears with wax and continue their party in the ship’s hold. 

San tried to get a better look, but Mingi was going too fast, and suddenly San lost his balance. He fell with a thud onto the deck, arm blaring an alarm of pain as he caught himself. Mingi gasped and dropped to crouch near him, spewing apologies at fast speed. San waved him off, sitting up as Yunho drew nearer, worried. 

“I’m fine, you idiot. Catch Jongho if you wanna spin so fast, I feel like I’m gonna puke.” Mingi let out a little laugh, helping San up. San’s arm still throbbed. 

“Maybe I will go find Jongho again. You’re too fragile.” San stuck his tongue out at Mingi, Mingi mirrorring him as he walked away to find the youngest of their group.

Yunho drifted to San and gently touched his arm. San gritted his teeth. His arm was getting redder as the time ticked. 

“It’ll be fine, Yun.” Yunho didn’t look convinced, but said nothing. “Let’s go watch the ocean.” It was partially to get San’s pain out of his head, partially to see if she was truly there. San didn’t know what to do if she was. 

Yunho guided him with a hand on his far shoulder to the side of the boat. The party raged on behind them, but all San could focus on now was the water in front of him, shimmering as the sun dropped in the sky. The wash of the sea curled over San’s senses, and San, in turn, curled into Yunho. The two swayed, watching the sunset. 

A splash caught San’s ears, flicking his head to see what it was. He saw a slip of iridescence before the thing disappeared under the waves. San’s eyes glimmered as he searched the sea, Yunho watching him. She surfaced again and noticed San’s attention on her. She giggled loudly before submerging again, unable to be out of the water for longer than a few seconds. 

San felt nothing but the bile rising in his throat. He turned away and made to stomp towards his chambers, but was stopped. Yunho grazed his hands over San’s face, bringing it to face his own.

“Who was that?” San frowned, eyes glancing down. Yunho’s boots were haphazardly tied, San’s own were buttoned. It fit, San thought. Yunho could take his time and be happy that he didn’t get it perfect, whereas San was always going too fast, not caring even if his aesthetic suffered because of it.

“Hey,” it was spoken so softly San could almost not hear it over the yells of his crewmates. 

Yunho used his hands on San’s face to lovingly tilt it upward and San found himself staring into the glassy eyes of his best friend. 

“Tell me what’s bothering you. Please.” San wanted to say it looked like something was bothering Yunho more, but kept his mouth shut. San shrugged and reached for Yunho’s hands on his face. He took them and intertwined their hands at their waists. 

“I’ve been seein’ her since the first fight after Hongjoong was made Captain. I don’t know why. She just appears sometimes.” San’s gaze drifted to the sea. “She’s like a spectre haunting me. She reminds me of the Prince. He wore her colors.” Yunho made a small sound. 

“What do you mean by that?” San sighed and looked at Yunho.

“The iridescence. They’re both glimmering fucking pearls. I hate it. But I don’t know why.” San’s voice cracked on the last word. He felt his arm swelling and throbbing. Yunho’s hands brushed over San’s.

“Let’s go to the medic, yeah?” 

San’s arm was wrapped tight, a cooling paste applied underneath. The medic had said it would be fine in the morning, but since the medic had been only a gunner before he was made a medic, San knew it wouldn’t be as he said. San was only thankful it wasn’t his main hand; he could still hold a sword like this, he just wouldn’t be as stable if he had two hands. 

Yunho fell into bed with San that night. The two lay together and existed, taking in each other. San had gotten used to being curled next to or on top of the taller man, stealing his warmth and breathing his scent. Yunho smelled like rosemary and sea salt; a soft citrus and wood smell that felt like home. They didn’t have much time to relax; as soon as the sun had made its bed, everyone else would start work on preparing for battle. 

Hongjoong still wanted to talk to the royal ship, ever the hopeful Captain, in hopes of avoiding blood spill. San knew that wouldn’t happen. San wasn’t one for hoping, but he did hope for a singular thing; that Yeosang would be on board. San clutched Yunho’s shirt as he thought about the sadistic Prince. He would love to rip his crown right off his head and use it to beat him to the ground with, leaving nothing but a bloodied mass, but San’s mind abruptly stopped that thinking. His head began to hurt, beating in time with his still hurting arm; both were synced to San’s heart beat. 

San turned, laying on his back next to Yunho and shuddered. His anger needed to wait and build up. He needed to use it all soon. San looked at Yunho’s side profile, watching him breath softly. San matched his breathing with his, and decided to go out on deck. 

San paced the deck, ears full of wax. He tried to will his brain to stop thinking about gutting the Prince, but he couldn’t stop. He wanted to rip every petal off the flagitious rose. San tensed and looked out at the water. It swayed gently, cradling the boat as it moved through it. The stars reflected in the dark and San could see maidens popping above the surface, staring. They disappeared as San’s eyes glazed over them. San wondered why they were being silent, but his wondering was cut short as the lookout screamed.

With a thud, the lookout’s body fell to the deck. The cockswain, frightened by the scream, ripped the wheel and sent San tripping to the middle of the deck. 

San crawled to the lookout. A large hole sat where his heart had been and San watched as the beating stopped. There was no blood. No rouge, no wetness.

A commotion began behind him but all San could focus on was a small flake of iridescence hidden in the cavity. 

It was a scale, brittle as San snapped it between his fingers. Hongjoong pushed San back by his shoulders, letting him fall away from the body. The scale pieces fell to the deck, wind making them dance on the wood. Mingi helped San up by the armpits, but San could only focus on the body. 

His eyes were open, not any wider than they had been. The lookout hadn’t seen it coming. Hongjoong turned to look at his men, opening his mouth to speak. San couldn’t take it. With a growl he darted over to the side of the boat. There she was. She waved her hand, a glittering beacon. San wanted to kill it. 

Unable to voice his anger, he slammed his hands on the wooden side, skin easily turning red. He felt an urge to jump and join her in the inky black. San imagined wrapping his arms around her neck and choking her hard enough to snap her life from her body. 

Yunho found him before he could jump, taking him down to the floor. San writhed, anger fueling his limbs. He couldn’t feel his arm that was hitting the wood, injuring it further. He couldn’t hear Yunho crying in his ear to stop. He could only see red until Yunho pressed his hands over San’s head, filling his vision with black. San’s chest rapidly rose and fell as Yunho covered his breathing passages. With one last wail, San fell into the inky black of his mind. 

San woke up, eyes blinking and trying to take in the sunlight beaming into his eyes. He was laying in the Captain’s quarters. With an odd feeling in his bones, San lay still. He was alone. He could hear his breath, but the boat was silent. No creaking, no splashing waves. There was nothing but San and the emptiness of the chamber. In the air, dust drifted, illuminated by the light of the porthole behind the desk. San slid off the bed. His feet made no noise as he clipped across the floor. San pulled open the door and water rushed into the room. 

It was endless; it didn’t stop even as San frantically tried to slam the door shut. He thought he was just dreaming. He must be just dreaming. The water filled up around his waist and San was knocked into it. He spluttered as he came up. It was as salty as the sea. Fish flung past him. The decorations on his Captain’s walls drifted by. Yet he heard nothing. That is, until a giggle broke through the silence. 

Droplets of iridescent water splashed toward San. Even in his dream, San felt his stomach churn with the sea. She just wouldn’t leave him alone. He tried, with all his might, to swim to the door again. He couldn’t push past the flood; it rose and began filling toward the ceiling. San banged his head as it continued flowing in. 

He spasmed in the water; legs kicking and arms following suit. He couldn’t breath, he couldn’t breath, he couldn’t breath. San struggled to the top of the madness, pressing his head sideways to the ceiling. Water flooded into his mouth and he desperately tried to sputter it out. She giggled again and San felt hands wrap around his waist. They were gentle but firm; letting San fight back enough to satisfy part of him but continued pulling him under. San tried everything to get the hands off of him; it felt like there were thousands, crawling around on his body. Her nails sunk into his body. He wailed in the water, swallowing the darkness. She giggled again, this time right in San’s ear. Then San woke up.

Almost immediately, he retched off the side of the bed, hands ripping at the bedsheets. He shivered in the cool air; moonlight streamed in. He was in the Captain’s quarters. 

It was too real; he could still feel her dragging him down, sharp nails breaking the skin of his waist. 

Breathing hard, San sprung from the bed and ran to the door. A large majority of the crew was gathered, waiting for the sighting of the other boat. San had guessed Hongjoong had put another person in the crow’s nest, as he saw a flickering light high above the ship in the soft navy sky. 

Stumbling backward, San hit the desk and gripped onto it. He began to pull at his hair; a habit from when he was young, very young. He hadn’t done it since he had been taken by the Horizon, often getting teased and hit for it. 

Too caught up in his thoughts, he was thrown violently from them when the ship lurched. A crash was heard and San lunged for the door handle. He flung it open and was greeted by fire.  
The Horizon was ablaze. San could’ve sworn it had just been fine, but he looked to the sky and found the deep black of the dead of night.

He crossed his arms, pulling his shirt up to block the smoke and made for below deck. Clashing and gunshots were ringing out on deck and San didn’t want to be left unarmed. He bumped into the side of the boat as it rocked again. His arm throbbed in pain but San ignored it, needing to get to his sleeping chamber. 

As soon as he had his sword in his hand, his mind suddenly flashed back to his past. As a child, San had watched his father dance with a blade; he twirled when a sword was in his grasp, balancing his usual gruffness with a softness San flocked to. His father had trained San a few steps of a waltz, telling him that it was how he managed to fight so gracefully. San remembered how he had stumbled, but his father had been there to catch him, everytime. 

With a grunt, San ran back to the above deck. He didn’t have time to reminisce about when his father was less shit than he was. He had a battle to win. 

When he surfaced, he noticed how many royals had flooded the ship; there were at least twenty, more bodies lying on the ground. San spotted Jongho immediately and ran to his side. There was a reason each gunman had a sword fighter as a partner; as one guard came up on Jongho’s side, another rose to his back and San was there. He sliced the man’s back before jabbing into his shoulder, just under the blade of it. Jongho turned to San as the man’s body crumpled. He looked surprised to see San able to fight, but with a nod of his head, San was at his back. 

They were a whirlpool of melee; akin to the hungry monster Charybdis, as they moved across the deck together. San locked swords with one guard and used Jongho at his back to launch at the man, taking him down. San didn’t have his dagger on him, but he didn’t need it as he cut the man’s head off his neck with the sharp of his cutlass. Jongho shot behind him, having just knocked a man away. He helped San up.

The Horizon was steadily burning, but cannons were still being fired by the gunners to the royal ship. San eyed the Answer, watching the silhouettes of men fighting aboard it. A gleam caught his eye. Steadying himself, he motioned to Jongho. A few guards were still up, but they were dropping quickly.

“I’m going over. Try and put out the flames.” Jongho nodded and patted him on the back, rushing below deck to rally the scared younger kids to help. San glanced around at the connecting planks before picking one leading from the Horizon’s quarterdeck to the other ship’s. 

He passed by Yunho and Mingi on the way, tripping the guy Mingi was fighting and knocking him down. Yunho and San exchanged a glance, but Yunho was quickly distracted as a guard jabbed at his frame. Yunho blocked the strike and engaged, leaving San to watch. They would figure it out later, and if not, if San died tonight, Yunho would be better off. 

San carried this sentiment with him as he scurried along the plank, jumping off of it and onto a guard on the other side. San subdued him and searched his body for a dagger. Cannons fired from the Horizon, launching chain shot into the Answer. The Answer began to blaze, plumes of smoke crawling into San’s eyes and making them water. San pushed on, avoiding the fights; he had someone to see. 

As he came down to the deck, San saw him; his coat was in tatters and crusted with blood, but even dirty it still shone. Yeosang was fighting off a member of San’s crew with a sword; not a cutlass like the rest of them, but a saber, drenched in red. San watched as he spun, skewering a man through his ribs with his thin blade. Yeosang stopped, noticing San. They glared at each other and moved together.

They met just under the shrouds. Despite the fire and smoke around them, the general air of fighting, San felt a sense of formality was due. He bowed to Yeosang slowly, a smirk present on his face. Yeosang looked murderous. They readied without any words, and as the cannons fired, they attacked. 

Yeosang struck first with a rippling blow, sending shockwaves down San’s cutlass and to his arm. San parried and braced forward. San sliced out at Yeosang, barely able to catch the Prince’s wrist before he spun away. They hit again, twirling their blades around until Yeosang placed a hit on San’s forearm, barely deep enough to hurt but enough to bring notice to San that his arm hadn’t healed like the medic said it would. Pushing the thought out of his head, San postured. Yeosang struck again, jabbing with his saber, but was too far away. San laughed at him, the sound mixing with the large creaking of the burning ships. San couldn’t tell who was winning, though every now and then he saw a flash of Hongjoong’s navy coat in his peripherals. 

San taunted the Prince, puffing out his chest and opening his arms wide. Yeosang laughed at him. The two rocked with the ship before clashing again. San pushed harder, knocking Yeosang against the foremast, but he lost his footing as the ship lurched suddenly. 

Yeosang quickly recovered, pressuring San to the side of the boat. He knocked San into another guard, but San muscled him out of the way. Using the side of the boat as leverage, San attacked Yeosang. 

Yeosang sputtered some and parried the best that he could. They took place back beneath the shrouds. They moved closer and started again.

San was able to nick Yeosang’s face, barely bringing his cheek to bleed, but it felt good. The red slowly dripped as the two fought, swords crashing against each other. They got caught up in each other; ignoring the shouts as the Answer suddenly cracked. There was a small gorge forming from bow to helm yet San and Yeosang paid it no mind. 

San parried as Yeosang thrusted again and he pushed up, knocking the Prince’s sword off of his. San took his shot and jabbed at Yeosang’s chest. He caught Yeosang’s side, making him crumple in on himself. 

“You’re not as strong as you think you are, Rose. A little wilted now, aye?” San mocked again, bringing more distance between the two. 

Yeosang’s blood smeared on his cheek, the wound on his side steadily staining his once snowy white jacket. San watched as Yeosang grit his teeth and rose again tiredly. Yeosang stood at the foremast, waiting.

Feeling the full effect of maddening adrenaline, San struck first. He was fueled by the fight, energy running high even as he breathed heavily. Emotions running, it struck San that, if he won this fight, he might not even make it off the ship. The Answer was still burning, large chunks of the bow had fallen into the sea already. As San stopped one of Yeosang’s hits, he could see a few maidens lounging on the floating pieces. 

The duet turned and San faced the Horizon. It wasn’t in much better condition, though it seemed most of the fighting was happening on the Answer. As San jabbed at Yeosang, he could see the shape of Yunho running about the Horizon. San only felt guilt as he watched his friend. Too wrapped up in his thoughts, San made a soft block and the cage of swords fell onto his shoulder. He cried out and tried to gain more strength from his legs to throw Yeosang’s saber off, but he couldn’t. 

San turned out, taking a cut to his bicep. 

Both arms in pain, San faced Yeosang and leapt back into the fight. 

San was losing stamina, but Yeosang was too. The Prince didn’t turn as cleanly as he once had and San was taking notice. San leapt at Yeosang and pushed him to the foremast with a hit to his raised saber. Yeosang hit the wooden post hard on his side and fell to the deck.  
San lorded over the Prince, lowering his sword to his throat. Yeosang suddenly smiled and sprung at San, taking him down with a tackle to the legs. San’s sword dropped out of his hand and they both were found weaponless. 

Another cannon shot rang out and the mast that Yeosang had just been against snapped, sharding into sharp pieces of wood. The mast leaned precariously and rocked the ship, throwing the mass of San and Yeosang to the side. They narrowly avoided the fire, Yeosang pushing San close enough that San could feel his hair start to burn. San turned them, pushing off the side of the boat. San remembered fighting like this with Yunho. His heart clenched as the bittersweetness hit him. Yeosang found an opening and got on top, straddling San. San used his hips and threw him off, but Yeosang was faster and pinned him to the broken mast. 

San screamed as the wooden spikes punctured his back. He felt it in his stomach as Yeosang put more pressure on him, the pain was impudent. San saw the blurry stars as Yeosang moved away. San cried at the moon, blood dripping down his legs. Yeosang looked barbarous as the flames flickered, blood staining his winded body.

“You’re a bastard, you know that? Your own father didn’t even want you, you were so fucked up even as a child.” San felt limp as Yeosang picked something up and continued his verbal assault. “You deserve the death you’ll get. You don’t deserve the pity your crew is forced to give you.” San twitched involuntarily. He already knew that his friends would be better off, even without the Prince spitting at him.

“Truthfully, I’d rather be taken prisoner than die the death you will.”

San heard the sword before he felt it; it whistled in the wind, arcing to his already bleeding chest. His body fizzled into a live wire of pain as it clipped into his sternum. Yeosang pushed San, digging the sword and mast in further and San couldn’t help but take into his heart what the Prince said. He had been nothing but an aggressor in life, he deserved to bleed out on a royal ship, where it all began. He deserved to be alone when he died. It was a cruel but well-deserved cycle that Fate had him running in, giving little quarter. Yeosang grunted in his ear, adding more pressure, and San’s vision began to blur. It sounded like someone was wailing, but San’s hearing was going. The battle was losing its noise, sounding like a diffused echo. San’s movements were stuffy as he barely grasped onto Yeosang’s wet hand that was pressing the sword into his chest. Eyes closing, San smiled.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, i love and appreciate your feedback ♥
> 
> twitter: yunhomyheart  
> tumblr: writing = breathlessbears, general = starrynx

**Author's Note:**

> there might be more parts to this 👀 but you'll have to wait cause im only halfway through the next one
> 
> yell at me on  
> twt: yunhomyheart  
> tumblr: starrynx or breathlessbears (for writing)


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